It’s been two weeks now, since I flew into France. It seems longer though, as it always does when the days are full and the setting is new. Aix-en-Provence is quite pretty. The city center looks like everything one would expect a town in southern France to look like; red tile roofs, narrow streets lined with cream colored buildings, cobblestone, foutains and plazas filled with markets and cafes.
I have the good fortune though, to be living in the countryside. My house is about a twenty minute bus ride from to the center. Everyday I get off the bus, walk another five minutes and arrive home as the evening is beginning to take hold.
Mornings though, are my favorite. Classes don’t start until late, so I never have to use an alarm. I peacefully wake up around 8:00, and take my time in fully getting out of bed and turning on my daytime brain. I like them because they are predictable (one of the only predictable things that I have in this new place). I know that after I climb down the ladder of my loft, continue down two flights of stairs, and enter the kitchen, I will be able to make toast and coffee. There is always fig jam and honey. On my first day here, my host mother, Marie Noelle, showed me the toaster and how to use the coffee maker. I have been enjoying my daily French breakfast ever since.
I like mornings also though, because they let me start over. I am washed of the fatigue of the previous day and have only hope for the new day left. I have only hope that my french will be better and the assurance that I am one day further in understanding what this country is all about.
I realized a few days ago, that my windowsill is just wide enough to sit on. That has become a part of my morning and nightly ritual also. One of the most refreshing things is to lean out over the roof and breathe in the morning or evening or rain or sunshine. There is a slow-flowing creek near the house which feeds tall cottonwoods. The birds or crickets are always singing from their branches.
But all this beauty comes with a few frustrations as well. I honestly cannot convey what I want to say most of the time. It is not only French vocabulary that prevents me, it is also what is behind the words. There is so much that I do not know. There are so many things about which I am mistaken, and am unaware of my mistake. There is so much I don’t know that I don’t know. It is huge, this task of learning to communicate all over again. I am like a baby spitting out words that no one can really understand. The other students at the school I attend are quite the comfort and so nice to be around. We are all in the same boat, all 29 of us Americans. We speak French with each other and take the time to try and understand what it is that the other means to say.
My language partner, Anais, is also good at being patient with me. Last week I spent a lot of time with her. She is quite an interesting person, and I can’t do her justice trying to describe her in writing. It will have to suffice to say that I think we will be good friends.
Besides all of that, my life is made of baguettes and peaches, interesting classes (most of the time) with nice professors, a new-to-me bicycle, and a bit of frisbee. All in all, I have to say, it is not easy to be here, but I think it is nonetheless quite good.
my window and desk and closet and loft
and some cheese at the market
I have the good fortune though, to be living in the countryside. My house is about a twenty minute bus ride from to the center. Everyday I get off the bus, walk another five minutes and arrive home as the evening is beginning to take hold.
Mornings though, are my favorite. Classes don’t start until late, so I never have to use an alarm. I peacefully wake up around 8:00, and take my time in fully getting out of bed and turning on my daytime brain. I like them because they are predictable (one of the only predictable things that I have in this new place). I know that after I climb down the ladder of my loft, continue down two flights of stairs, and enter the kitchen, I will be able to make toast and coffee. There is always fig jam and honey. On my first day here, my host mother, Marie Noelle, showed me the toaster and how to use the coffee maker. I have been enjoying my daily French breakfast ever since.
I like mornings also though, because they let me start over. I am washed of the fatigue of the previous day and have only hope for the new day left. I have only hope that my french will be better and the assurance that I am one day further in understanding what this country is all about.
I realized a few days ago, that my windowsill is just wide enough to sit on. That has become a part of my morning and nightly ritual also. One of the most refreshing things is to lean out over the roof and breathe in the morning or evening or rain or sunshine. There is a slow-flowing creek near the house which feeds tall cottonwoods. The birds or crickets are always singing from their branches.
But all this beauty comes with a few frustrations as well. I honestly cannot convey what I want to say most of the time. It is not only French vocabulary that prevents me, it is also what is behind the words. There is so much that I do not know. There are so many things about which I am mistaken, and am unaware of my mistake. There is so much I don’t know that I don’t know. It is huge, this task of learning to communicate all over again. I am like a baby spitting out words that no one can really understand. The other students at the school I attend are quite the comfort and so nice to be around. We are all in the same boat, all 29 of us Americans. We speak French with each other and take the time to try and understand what it is that the other means to say.
My language partner, Anais, is also good at being patient with me. Last week I spent a lot of time with her. She is quite an interesting person, and I can’t do her justice trying to describe her in writing. It will have to suffice to say that I think we will be good friends.
Besides all of that, my life is made of baguettes and peaches, interesting classes (most of the time) with nice professors, a new-to-me bicycle, and a bit of frisbee. All in all, I have to say, it is not easy to be here, but I think it is nonetheless quite good.
my window and desk and closet and loft
and some cheese at the market
bicycle! yes!!
ReplyDeletethanks for sharing a piece of your day to day with us joy! i owe you a letter and some sort of baked good. they will find you sometime soon.
loves.
ditto what Beth said.
ReplyDeleteBonjour ma petite chou. C'est vrai que c'est tres dificile de communiquer des idées abstaites dans une langue étrangere. You can't even make your computer do the accents! Abstract ideas are the hardest, and emotions, and nuances. Those take time. It's a bit humiliating talking baby-talk, but that's just how it is for awhile: big mature thoughts stained through limited vocabulary and experience in the culture. Just keep listening, keep asking, keep taking notes. You're very good with people, so the communication will come. People can tell who you are without fancy words, ma Joie!
I think I want to meet Anais and Noelle Marie even if you can't do them justice. I am terribly jealous of their being able to see your smile. How about some pictures of them?
When I was first learning my foreign languages, and still now, my brain would turn to mush after awhile. And yes, I'd be very tired. I'm glad birds sing in the universal languages, aren't you? Every morning the pure glory God put in them just bursts out. Neither is His Glory in you dependent on your knowledge of a language or on your performance...rather in His pure delight with you. Shine, sister!
Such a cute room!
ReplyDeleteHello Joy dear. I just read your blog, and it made me very happy to know that you have 1) a windowsill, 2) a bicycle, 3) coffee every morning, 4) a creek nearby, 5) a potential good friend. (perhaps friends should be at the top of the list. Perhaps not, though. Windowsills are divine.) (how do you pronounce Anais? It has the two dots over the i, right? an-AH-is? or ah-NYES? confusion over french.)
ReplyDeleteJust think of all the good places and things on that list that you can turn to on a not-spectacular day! There are so many possibilities for small cheer-you-uppers! Yay! :) I am giving you a very big hug now.